Coming Home
by DreamsInTheSky
Summary: Sherlock is going back home.


It was dark and quiet at the little pub in London´s outer parts. The rain had been pouring down the whole day and it didn't look like it was going to

stop now that the evening had come either. Sherlock traced the raindrops that were flowing down the dirty window of the pub with his eyes.

Studying the different shapes they created when they crossed each other's path. If the raindrops had been humans this was exactly how life was,

people crossing each other's paths. When two raindrops meet they created a bigger string off water and when two raindrops were split up it got

smaller and dried out as if the string off water needed two raindrops two be whole. When Sherlock gazed out through the window he felted like only

one lonely raindrop. He knew who the second raindrop was, the raindrop that would make him whole. The question was if he dared to tell him. A

man reached the table where he sat and asked if he wanted to order something.

"A beer." Normally Sherlock avoided alcohol because it wasn't good for the thinking but right now he felted that maybe if he just drank a little he

would dare to travel does last miles and meet his raindrop.

When Sherlock left the pub he went straight out into the heavy rain of a thunder storm and it only took seconds before he was soaked to his bare

skin. He was drunk. Not so drunk that he would wake up the next day not remembering or doing something that he wouldn't want. Just drunk

enough to make his movements slower and uncoordinated. And of course, drunk enough to be brave enough to go home.

Sherlock stared at the door before him, the numbers telling him that this was it. He was home for the first time in years. All he had to do now was to

knock it. So he did. Then he waited. After all it was in the middle of the night so it would probably take some time before someone opened. Sherlock

knew who it was going to be. Mrs Hudson never opened the door in the middle of the night, Sherlock had once told her not to. He could now hear

footsteps on the other side of the door and he understood that he very, very soon would be eye to eye with someone who he both longed and

dreaded to see. Sherlock suddenly felt a strong urge to run away. But it was too late. The door was open.

Sherlock stared at John´s face waiting for a reaction that never came. John just stepped aside letting Sherlock in to the apartment. They walked in

silence too the living room. Sherlock´s coat leaving a wet trail behind him.

"Should I heat some water for tea?"

Sherlock took a couple more steps closer to John and they were now only centimetres apart.

"I have something very important to say to you." Sherlock said in a soft voice. They were standing so close that John had to look up to be able to

meet Sherlock´s eyes. Sherlock´s heart was pounding inside him by having John so near after such a long time. He could see in John´s eyes a

longing that he wanted to reach out and touch him. But John never reached out it was Sherlock who bowed down and gently let his lips touch

John´s. In surprise John pulled away.

"Don´t do anything you will regret when you are sober."

"I got drunk just so I would dare to do it so don´t worry about regret." Sherlock bowed down again and this time John kissed back. Sherlock felted a

rush of happiness when John kissed back. He had been so afraid on how his friend would react both to his return and his feelings. He had been

afraid that he had lost his friend in the fall. Then Moriarty would have succeeded with burning his heart out. But John hadn´t turned his back to him,

so Moriarty had truly lost the great game. Sherlock laid his hands on John's shoulders moving him even closer. He could feel John´s hands under his

shirt moving up his chest. They kissed over and over. John undid the buttons on Sherlock´s shirt and Sherlock tried to do the same with John´s but

the alcohol only made his hands fumble around so he gave up and left it to John. Somehow, beyond even Sherlock´s understanding, had they

moved from the living room up to John´s bedroom. Sherlock could feel John´s soft breath in his ear as his friend kissed him down the neck. It sent

a shill down his spine of excitement. When their eyes meet John said with a low voice:

"Six years, you were gone for six years and for six years have I waited." John was leaning forward to kiss him again and just before their lips

touched he whispered:

"You are so worth it."

Sherlock woke up feeling the warmth from Johns body on his back. He felt at home for the first time in years. Home and safe. Then a thought came

back to Sherlock his eyes returning to John´s face.

"You were not surprised to see me, if you weren´t surprised you must have known I was alive. How?" What Sherlock knew not even Mycroft had

succeeded with that.

"I can´t say it was easy because it took about two years before I saw it."

"Saw what?" Sherlock´s curiosity had awakened and he raised himself up so he sat in the bed.

"That I was focusing on what I saw not on what I missed."

"Most people do." Sherlock commented with a smile.

"I never saw you hit the ground because you had asked me to stay on a place where the last part of the fall couldn´t be seen. You knew that, you

wouldn´t have missed such an important thing. This meant you wanted me to notice that I didn't saw the hit since you wanted me to look." Sherlock

could only smile at this, perhaps he had underestimated John´s intelligence. He had several times imagined that John would have figured it out but

he had never really believed that he would.

"But what about my dead body then?" Sherlock couldn´t help asking. "You can't just draw the conclusion that I'm alive because you didn't see me

hit the ground. I could have missed that the building was blocking the view. You actually saw my body."

"I am an old solider. I have seen the bodies of dead friends before and when I close my eyes I can see does bodies clearly." Now John too sat up in

the bed looking into Sherlock´s eyes.

"But not yours, my image of your body is in a bluer, just like everything after my collision with the bicycle is in a bluer. And too many people where

trying to pull me away from you, for me to really get a close look on you. We see what we expect to see as you once said. I was expecting to see

you so I wasn't looking for someone else." John´s lips met his in a very light kiss. The touch was like an electric signal trough Sherlock´s body and

for a moment he lost focus on everything else than John´s touch.

"I can understand the way you draw one thing from another but you need something more concrete to prove that I didn't die." A little smiled played

over John´s lips and Sherlock could see playful sparkles in John´s eyes.

"You fell several floors down landing hard on the pavement." He nodded even dough in practice it wasn´t true.

"Yet there where only one pint of blood on the ground." Sherlock couldn't help himself and burst out in giggle remembering the case with Janus

Cars in Moriarty´s great game. He had planned that detail hoping John would catch it. Then his stomach grumbled and he stopped laughing and

turned his eyes to John with just a tiny glimpse of begging in them. John laughed.

"Would you care for some breakfast?"

"You read my mind."

When Mrs Hudson entered the kitchen both of them looked up from their plates. Mrs Hudson´s eyes where rapidly moving between them and

Sherlock could see the anger that rose in them when she was looking at him. With two giant strides she had reached them at the table and was

towering over Sherlock. Even dough he sat she was not that much taller which would have made the whole scene very comical if it weren't for the

furious flames in her eyes.

"How could you do this to us? How could you just leave us here with the belief that you where dead?" Her voice was on a very high frequency that

almost made it crack. She turned towards John.

"And you, how can you sit here and eat breakfast with this man?" It looked like she was going to yell a lot more but John held up his spoon and

quietened her.

"Because he has said he is sorry. And I am satisfied with that." John´s voice was calm but decided. Sherlock couldn´t help but smile a little, this was

defiantly not the best moment to tell Mrs Hudson that John had known for years that he was alive. Mrs Hudson tried to say something more but the

fury seemed to have left her. She backed off and looked on Sherlock with hard eyes.

"I can´t say that I´m that surprised because this is so typically you but I will not forgive you that easily." Sherlock went from his chair and placed

his hands on Mrs Hudson´s shoulders.

"I don't expect that you will and I can only say I am sorry." Mrs Hudson placed a hand on Sherlock´s arm and nodded. John hade also left the table

and was standing beside them.

"I guess you will want to have your old bedroom back." Mrs Hudson said with a sigh. John and Sherlock glanced at each other. Sherlock giving away

one of his astonishing smiles and John said to Mrs Hudson:

"I don't think we will need two bedrooms."

At first she just looked at them then Mrs Hudson stepped forward and embraced them both and exclaimed:

"I thought you two would never realize."

* * *

**This is just a oneshot that I have had almost finished for ages. Please review and tell me what you think.**


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